Warming Up to Myself

 oday marked my third day of running in a row—something that initially felt surprising until I checked the numbers and realized I’ve actually run 16 of the last 21 days. That’s roughly three out of every four days. Funny how the mind frames things: the streak feels accidental, almost fragile, yet the reality suggests a level of consistency I rarely give myself credit for. If I run tomorrow, the streak becomes “above average,” but even without that, the pattern is already there.

This morning’s run felt like a small gift. Forty-seven degrees in late November is warm enough to crack open the door to the outdoors again, so I took it. I didn’t expect much—certainly not speed—but I ended up running 3.13 miles at a 7:26 pace. It was definitely a push, though not outside any true limits. Mostly it just felt foreign because I haven’t asked my body to run fast in a long while. And somehow, outside of a couple of 5Ks and a few random one-mile tests, this was my fastest run since June of 2022.

What makes it interesting is that it wasn’t planned. I meant to pick up the pace a little, but I didn’t have any number in mind. My legs handled the progression on their own: 7:54 in mile one, 7:02 in mile three, with the middle mile bridging the gap. By the last mile I was working, sure, but the only real difference between the early slog and the late surge was being warmed up. I used to be able to step out the door and hit the gas immediately. Now I need a mile—sometimes more—to remember where the rhythm lives. Maybe that’s aging. Maybe it’s wisdom. Maybe it’s just the body refusing to skip necessary steps I’ve ignored for years.

I’m at 70.8 miles for the month and on pace for 101 in November. Less than 84 miles stand between me and 1,000 for the year. My average pace for 2025 sits at 8:39—my slowest to date, barely edging out last year’s 8:37. But since July, I’ve been stringing together sub-8:30 runs, gradually tugging the average downward. The numbers shift slowly, but they do shift.

There’s something grounding in that. The data shows a version of me I don’t always see in the moment: steady, persistent, willing to keep showing up even when I don’t feel sharp or fast or particularly inspired. Maybe the real warm-up isn’t the first mile—it’s the long stretch of days where I keep putting one foot in front of the other, waiting for the version of myself that remembers how to push, how to trust the legs, how to run freely again.

And every now and then—like today—that version shows up

Maintenance Mode

Some days you stack the deck against yourself, and some days the stars just quietly align. Lately I’ve been taking more days off as the year winds down, but I’m still plugging away. And this morning, I hit the rare combo: a genuinely good night of sleep and waking up early.

That small victory turned into a bigger one—7.25 treadmill miles at an 8:29 pace, over an hour on my feet. A little longer than what I’ve been doing recently, but still comfortably within reach.

That run nudges my monthly total to nearly 64 miles and my yearly total to almost 910. Having fewer than 100 miles left to hit the year-long goal is doing exactly what I hoped it would: keeping me consistent even if I’m not exactly fired up to “build” right now. Maintenance mode isn’t glamorous, but it’s still movement—and it counts.

Speaking of maintaining, my weight has held steady around 180 for about six weeks now. If I can hold that line through the Christmas-cookie gauntlet, that alone will be a win worth celebrating.

There’s not much more to say, and not much motivation to say it—but I’m hanging in, moving forward, and keeping the wheels turning. Sometimes that’s enough.

The Relentless March to 1,000

Last night I had one of the best nights of sleep I can remember. I only woke up once, and just for a moment. I don’t know what the magic formula was, but I woke up feeling incredible.

Riding that momentum, I hopped on the treadmill this morning with zero hesitation and knocked out 5 miles at a steady 8:20 pace. No bargaining, no dragging myself onto the belt—just legs moving and everything clicking.

I’m now sitting at 888+ miles for the year. Just 111.28 to go with 48 days left. I might not be in “building” mode right now, but I’m holding steady, and the miles are quietly stacking up.

At this stage, it’s beautifully simple: five miles every other day. That’s it. That’s the whole secret. And you know what? That is absolutely, unquestionably doable. This isn’t a mountain. This is a staircase. And every run is just another step upward. I’ve got the time, I’ve got the momentum, and after last night’s all-star sleep performance… I’ve got the energy.

This goal doesn’t stand a chance.

Routine in Flux

Daylight savings has its occasional perks. This morning’s unseasonably warm weather gave me the rare chance to run outside before work. I’ve only logged a few treadmill runs so far this year, but stepping outdoors on a weekday already felt oddly unfamiliar. Funny how quickly we become creatures of habit.

That’s not to say I’ve been particularly motivated on the treadmill either. My routine is still in flux, and every morning feels like a battle just to get moving. Even once I’m a few miles in, I’m still negotiating with myself not to stop. It’s not pain exactly—more of a dull fatigue, a general sense of blah. Definitely more mental than physical.

Still, I’m ahead of where I was last year in total mileage, and I’m hoping to sneak in a run or two with Maya this weekend. And that 1,000-mile goal is still within reach—just 130 miles to go. One way or another, I’ll get there.

Winter is Coming

The winter doldrums are starting to creep in. It’s not that I’m unmotivated—if anything, I’ve been steady—but something feels a little off. My legs don’t feel quite right, yet I can’t point to any real reason they should be tired. My mileage is lower, sure, but I’ve still run 10 out of the last 11 days. Maybe it’s just a matter of new muscle groups waking up and adjusting to treadmill running.

This past week, I’ve logged five runs indoors. The transition hasn’t been bad, all things considered. My shorter efforts have been around 3.4 miles in 30 minutes, and my longest so far stretched to 5 miles in 44 minutes. The hardest part, always, is getting started—the mental push to step onto the belt and begin. The first mile or two feel awkward, like my body is remembering how to move. But once I settle in, the rhythm takes over, and I feel like I could run forever.

Still, I need to find a better routine. Getting on the treadmill earlier would help—less scrolling, less hesitation, maybe a few extra minutes of sleep sacrificed for consistency. The morning always offers a choice: comfort or progress.

Over the weekend, I did manage to escape the hamster wheel and run outside with Maya. We logged 3.11 miles on Saturday at a 7:58 pace and 2.21 miles on Sunday at 7:34. Those runs are our usual compromise—short for me, long for her; slow for her, fast for me. But the pace doesn’t matter. Running with my daughter is worth more than any number in the log.

Halloween, of course, has unleashed a new wave of sugar cravings. The house is full of candy, and the holidays are right around the corner—a dangerous combination. I’m holding steady around 180 pounds, but I’d like to drop another ten. For now, I’ll count it as a small victory if I can simply hold the line through winter.

Maybe that’s what this season is really about—holding steady when everything slows down, trusting that the rhythm will return when the days start to grow longer again.

Keeping it 100 (October Update)

3.38 more treadmill miles this morning at an 8:52 pace pushed me to 102.51 miles for the month—my fourth consecutive 100+ mile month (YEY!).

Despite feeling like I’m in a bit of a slump, the numbers tell a different story. I’ve run six of the last seven days (25 miles total) and logged 22 runs this month. My average pace came in at 8:26 per mile, two seconds faster than last month. That might slip a bit as I transition into my slower, lower-effort base-building treadmill workouts, but that’s part of the plan.

Year-to-date, I’m sitting at 845.86 miles. To reach 1,000 by year’s end, I’ll need to average about 77 miles per month. If I can stay near 100, I’m golden — and even if things taper off a bit, there’s still some breathing room.

The treadmill transition has been surprisingly smooth this year. Normally, it takes me at least a week to get comfortable — constantly worrying about being launched off the back and crowding the front of the machine. But after 361 treadmill runs over the past seven years, I guess I’ve finally become a seasoned belt-runner.

Next step: adjusting my schedule so I can go longer than 30 minutes. One step at a time (literally).

Fighting the Fall Slump

As often happens this time of year, my mileage has started to taper off. The days are shorter, the weather’s colder, and my schedule is packed. With my daughter’s cross-country season wrapped up and no River to River Relay on the horizon, my usual sources of motivation are running low.

Still, I’m trying to keep my head up and fight the good fight. Yesterday, I made the seasonal shift to the treadmill—logging 4.54 miles yesterday and another 3.39 today. Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as I expected. I ran at about a 9-minute pace, which always feels a bit tougher on the treadmill than on the road, but still comfortably easy overall.

That puts me at 99.13 miles for the month. Thankfully, October has 31 days, so barring catastrophe, I should hit 100 miles for the fourth consecutive month.

Hopefully, once I settle back into the treadmill routine, my mileage will start trending upward again. Getting out of bed and onto the treadmill can be a battle, but in many ways, it’s actually quicker and easier than running outside—so I don’t have many excuses.

The goal for the year remains 1,000 miles. With consistent treadmill work, I’m hoping to build a strong aerobic base over the winter and set myself up for an epic spring.